


Mecca

by Arsenic



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-14
Updated: 2007-09-14
Packaged: 2020-08-11 09:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Punk AU





	Mecca

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Amandazillah and Elaine_marie in the Mikey AU meme.

If he'd been standing anywhere but in the doorway of the squat, Mikey would have rolled his eyes at the kid for being a poser. As it was the only real sign of punk affiliation on him were his gauges, and they were only 6 gauge, from the looks of them. He had a fucking sweater on, over a button-down for chrissakes, but he was standing in the doorway, and the point of the squat was to offer punks a place to go. So Mikey said, "Flier with me for a couple of hours and you've got a place to stay tonight."

The kid asked, "What band?"

"Number Twelve," Mikey said, looking for any telltale signs of confusion. Instead the kid said, "Awesome," soft and monotone, but somehow like he meant it all the same.

"You like mathcore?" Mikey asked, handing over half the fliers and a roll of tape.

"I like Number Twelve. And Dillinger Escape." The kid shrugged. "Horror punk's more my thing, but this is Jersey. No point in coming if you're not going to listen to a little hardcore."

Mikey blinked. It wasn't like they never got drifters, or even pilgrims, but usually a person could tell. The kid looked skinny, and not as clean as he could have, but he didn't look like someone who'd made his way out from squat to squat, working odd jobs on the way like most of that type Mikey'd met in his time. "Where you from?"

"Out west," the kid said, and nothing else.

Mikey didn't press. "You wanna leave your bag here?"

"No, thanks."

The kid's shoulders were tight, and Mikey could only imagine how long he'd carried the thing. "Seriously, you can leave it with my stuff, nobody'll touch it."

"Really, that's all right."

Mikey sighed. "Okay, well, I was gonna start in Journal Square. It's not that far from here. You eaten?"

The kid shook his head. Mikey said, "India Square's right off there. You like Indian?"

The kid shrugged. Mikey knew that shrug. He said, "My treat. For helping with the flyering."

"I thought that was how I was paying for the space."

"Nah, that was just me drafting someone to take care of this with me. Frank totally fucked me over to go a Vandals show in Philly this week. And Gee and Bob are off picking up Ray, who managed to get left behind by his band _again_. I don't know why they both had to go, although I suspect the answer involves a lot of blowjobbery. Assholes."

The kid made a sound that was suspiciously like a laugh, but Mikey wasn't sure, because he didn't seem to be smiling. Mikey said, "Oh, um, I'm Mikey, hi. Gee's my brother, and Bob's his boyfriend, which you probably figured out from the whole blowjob thing. Frank's our pet boy, but we allow him to go to shows by himself every once in a while and Ray's my best friend who is seemingly invisible a lot of the time, at least to the bands he's always joining up with. We keep this place standing, if, um," Mikey looked around at the squalor, "not much else."

The kid said, "I'm Ryan."

"Okay, Ryan From Out West. Do you like Indian?"

"Garlic nan," Ryan said, with a touch of reverence.

"Perfect," Mikey said, "let's go gorge ourselves on flat bread and then cover this town in paper."

Ryan said, in that soft, unlilting voice of his, "That sounds suspiciously like a plan."


End file.
